


Under a Rhyming Planet

by Thistlerose



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Backstory, F/M, Outdoor Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-13
Updated: 2011-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-14 17:20:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thistlerose/pseuds/Thistlerose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winona and George make the most of their shore leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under a Rhyming Planet

Winona finds him sitting on a rock by the lake, studying - what else? - a PADD. He looks up as her shadow falls across his back and the sunlight catches his lashes, turning them bright gold and reminding her of Iowa wheat fields.

“Hey, farm boy,” she says, grinning as she sidles up to him, her hands in the pockets of her uniform pants. She plants one booted foot on the rock beside him and tosses back her hair. She knows how good she looks right now. She’s feeling pretty good too. It’s been a grueling couple of months, but she’s made good progress on her experiments in the _Kelvin_ ’s biochem lab, and she wants to celebrate.

George’s lips quirk. Cocking his head, he says casually, “That’s a nice way to address a superior officer. I happen to be working on the new duty roster. If you’re not careful, I might assign you to gamma shift for the foreseeable future.”

She sinks to her knees beside him. “But then,” she says, gently prizing his fingers one by one away from the PADD, “you’d find yourself sleeping alone for the foreseeable future. Anyway,” she continues, once the PADD is safely in her possession, and he’s giving her that _Okay, you might have a point_ look of his, “you’re not on duty right now. Neither of us is. The day is ours to do with as we please, and I can’t believe you’d rather spend it working on the duty roster.”

“Well,” he says, winding an arm around her waist and hitching her closer, “it isn’t a matter of what I’d rather do. It’s a matter of having a quiet minute or two to myself.”

He makes a sudden grab for the PADD, but she’s ready for him, and evades him with the quick backward skip her hand-to-hand combat instructor at Starfleet Academy used to praise.

He stumbles after her, pretty damn gracefully considering she took him by surprise, and makes another lunge. She turns and starts to run, not because she doesn’t want him to catch her eventually, but because she’s been cooped up for so damn long, and it feels so good to stretch her legs and let this planet’s crisp, fragrant air fill her lungs. Of all the things she misses, living on a starship, this is probably what she misses the most: pure freedom of movement.

She’s never been any good at staying in one place; her parents moved around a lot when she was little, and she never minded, at least not as much as her parents, teachers, and guidance counselors seemed to think she would. It’s one of the reasons she joined Starfleet. She hadn’t really considered it before Commander Nguyen came to speak at her high school one Friday during assembly, but from that moment, it was _all_ she could think about: new worlds to plant her feet on, new people to meet.

She saw a future full of romance and adventure, and after four years in space, she doesn’t feel cheated. She’s traded phaser fire with Orion pirates, sung raucous drinking songs with Klingons, and been in the arms - well, appendages - of some pretty otherworldly … fellows. It’s been one surprise after another, and the biggest was falling in love with the soft-spoken, by the book, Iowa-born-and-raised Lieutenant Commander Kirk.

Winona still isn’t quite sure how that happened, but she’s pretty happy. For one thing, it makes the time between missions pass much more enjoyably. For another, it’s an escapade she can actually write home to her parents about.

“What are you, six?” George laughs as he catches up with her, snagging the back of her shirt. “Get over here.”

She lets him reel her in, turning in his arms and holding the PADD behind his back. He could reach right around and pluck it from her hands if he wanted to, but he seems to have forgotten all about it. They stand toe-to-toe for a few breathless moments, her face tipped back, his warm hands firm on her waist. She loves his hands; they’re long-fingered and callused, like he grew up working hard. She loves the rough glide of them down her body … and suddenly that is what she wants, right here, right now, the hell with everything else.

Still holding the PADD with one hand, she clutches the front of his shirt and, rising to her toes, pulls him down into a kiss. He responds enthusiastically, pushing her lips apart with his tongue, sliding his hands down over her ass.

George is a good ten inches taller than she is, which makes the angle awkward, but they’ve figured out how to deal with that to their mutual satisfaction. With a soft grunt, he hoists her into his arms, and she wraps her legs around his hips. It’s like being launched skyward, and it’s one of her favorite things - pretty much ever. Never before has she so enjoyed being petite.

Mouth still clamped over hers, George pushes her against a convenient tree. Winona can feel the scrape of rough bark through her shirt, and she shivers in delight and anticipation. The PADD drops from her fingers and lands with a soft thud against the loamy earth. Fleetingly, she hopes he doesn’t step on it, actually considers warning him about it - but then he curls his tongue against hers and she forgets the fucking thing completely. She’s starting to feel a warm wetness between her legs, and a tickle in her belly. A little wriggling on her part, a low moan on his, and they’re on roughly the same page.

Or maybe not quite.

George breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against hers. “We shouldn’t.”

“Why not? Nobody else is around. C’mon, farm boy.” She brushes her lips over his and claws hungrily at his shirt, tugging it free of his pants. She strokes the bared skin with her fingertips and he sighs against her mouth.

“ _Win…_ ”

“Hmm?”

“Someone could walk by … at any moment. We could…”

His voice is thickening. He’s losing coherence, which means that the victory is almost hers. Oh, she knows they could beam back to the ship and tear each other’s clothes off in the privacy of their quarters, but she hasn’t done it against a tree in years, and she’s never done it like this with _him_ , and she _really_ wants to.

“No one’ll catch us,” she says, tucking a sweat-tipped lock of dark blond hair behind his ear. Cocking her eyebrow, she adds, “You make me yell loud enough, and everyone’ll know they should steer clear.”

“Oh, God.” He leans closer and presses a kiss to her temple. “You’re a wild woman,” he whispers. “You know that, right?” He slips a hand under her shirt, eliciting a few more shivers as he strokes his way up to her breast.

“You love it.” She arches into his hand. “It’s the first thing about me that turned you on.”

“Actually, it isn’t.” He rubs his thumb across her hardening nipple.

“Really?”

“Really.” He kisses her mouth. “Nope. Distant third, actually.”

“Huh.” She’s curious _and_ horny - not exactly a good combination, as her wont is to fuck first and ask questions in the afterglow. It must be a testament to her love for this man that she actually wants to hear his answers first. Crossing her ankles against the small of his back, she stokes his face and says, “Okay, Kirk, I’m listening. For which of my good qualities did you first suffer love for me?”

He laughs as he continues to fondle her breast. “Okay, make that the fourth. I love that you’re literary. It’s fucking sexy.”

“I love that you know my quotes.” She really does. The guys she used to fool around with in high school thought she was making everything up, which was flattering in a way, but kind of discouraging at the same time. It’s more fun fucking someone’s brains out, when there are actual brains behind the pretty blue eyes.

“So, that was third. For the second…” He bucks against her and squeezes her breast, making her moan. “This is going to sound stupid, but I think it’s hot the way you’re never afraid to stick your hands in something disgusting. Back home, I knew a lot of people - not just girls - who didn’t even want to be in the same room as a turtle, never mind something really gross, like alien slime molds.”

“Y’know, I could be wrong,” Winona says, cocking her head and grinning at him, “but I’m willing to bet real money that’s the first time someone didn’t kill the mood by bringing up alien slime molds during foreplay.”

“Yeah, we’re different, all right.”

“Completely. So, come on,” she says, squirming in his embrace, wanting more than just the hard press of his erection against her thigh. She can feel the flush suffusing her cheeks and throat. She’s _ready_ , already. “What’s my best quality?”

“Not your best quality - what turns me on the most. And I - Win, I can’t.” His knees fold slowly and he goes down, taking her with him. They land with a bone-rattling jolt, in a tangle of limbs and loosened uniforms.

“Can’t what?” she asks when she’s sort of recovered her breath, climbing on top of him and pushing his shirt up. “Can’t do it? Can’t say it? It’s too embarrassing?”

“Can’t put it in words,” he groans.

She strokes the sparse, light hairs, from his navel to where they disappear under the waistband of his pants.

“Just - you…”

“Okay.” She smiles as she unzips his pants and starts to tug them and his boxers down. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Winona.”

She looks up. Their eyes meet. God, she’s never seen such a blue. His gaze is so focused, so intense, she feels prickles of heat all up and down her arms.

“Win, you make me crazy. You make me inarticulate.”

“And yet, you can still say the word inarticulate.”

He makes a grab for her, and this time she’s the one who’s caught off guard. She gasps as he pulls her down to his chest, hands roving over her body, tugging and pushing at her clothes until she starts to feel the breeze against her bare limbs. Its touch is lighter than his, but it stokes the fire in her belly even as it coolly caresses her heated, sensitized skin. She clings to George when he enters her, and rests her cheek against his shoulder, letting him do most of the work. It occurs to Winona, for perhaps the first time in her adult life, that she’s exactly where she wants to be, and has no desire to leave. Ever.

____________

 _But for which of my  
good parts did you first suffer love for me?_

\- Shakespeare, "Much Ado About Nothing," Act 5, scene ii

 

1/09/2011


End file.
